


devour me (if you really think that you can stomach me)

by HighLadyoftheNightCourt



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Denial of Feelings, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fingering, First Time, Fluff, Oral Sex, Robin is bisexual, Smut, smut in chapter 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-22 04:56:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19660267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighLadyoftheNightCourt/pseuds/HighLadyoftheNightCourt
Summary: "Nobody deserves to die alone". It is the sole reason why she doesn't move away when Steve Harrington kisses her.----------------------There is nothing romantic about it; all it is is reassurance that she, that they, are both here. It is the equivalent of screaming we are alive, you haven't killed us yet.





	1. Chapter 1

She is high and scared. She doesn't know how much time she has --they have-- until the evil Russians come back and probably --most possibly-- kill them both. Robin wasn't one of those edgy teenagers that fantasized about their deaths, but never in a million guesses would she have come up with a scenario as absurd and utterly impossible as her reality. Dying --no, not _dying_ \-- being _killed_ in a secret underground facility by top-secret military agents. It made her want to laugh and cry at the same time.

She is fucking terrified and she doesn't want to be alone; she has been alone her entire life. Always the outcast, the social-pariah. She was even half-convinced that not even her own parents liked her.

_Nobody deserves to die alone_ , is the sole reason why she doesn't move away when Steve Harrington kisses her. He is all bruised up and bloody and it must have hurt like hell when he pressed his lips against hers, but it seems like he doesn't care. Perhaps he doesn't want to be alone too, Robin thinks while waiting for him to pull back.

He doesn't. When he realizes that she has no intention of pushing him away he brings his hands to her face and pulls her even closer to him --up to that moment Robin hadn't thought that two people could ever be so close, as if there was no space, no air, dividing them, as if they were one. The first kiss was tentative, testing the waters. The second one was a plunge into the deep end.

She likes it. The realization hits her like a frozen wave; suddenly, violently and painfully. One hand remains on her face as if he is afraid that the moment he lets go the spell will be broken and she will leave but the other one starts to wander down her body, squeezing her. What he is doing is far too urgent and rough to be called _caressing_. There is nothing romantic about it; all it is is reassurance that she, _that they,_ are both here. It is the equivalent of screaming _we are alive, you haven't killed us yet._

They break apart for air and Robin is the first one to reconnect their lips. She wanted this; wants him. She is ashamed, hell, even disgusted with herself. She hated Steve Harrington. He was an arrogant asshole that had everything he ever wanted without having to work for it. She envied it for him; _that_ she could admit. She envied him for having all the girls drool over him while they wouldn't even look at her. But she finds the prospect of secretly lusting over him ridiculous. She doesn't even like boys.

And then he groans into her mouth, dragging her onto his lap, his lips moving away from hers and leaving a trail of wet kisses down her throat until they settle on her pulse point where they sucked until she was certain there would be a mark tomorrow --Ha! Tomorrow, what an absurd prospect.

"Oh." She breaths weakly. Now she could see what all the girls saw in him. She feels as if she had finally solved the mystery that was Steve Harrington. It didn't matter if you were an asshole if you kissed like that.

Not that she would ever admit it to anyone, but she had spent several lunch-breaks observing Steve make-out with some girl. She was curious to find out what his technique was, what made all the girls swoon. The conclusion she had reached was that it was all about maintaining your cool and being in control.

Steve Harrington didn't seem like he had anything under control. Sure, you could tell he was experienced but his hands kept moving up and down her body as if he couldn't decide where he wanted to touch her the most. It was because of the drugs, Robin decided. There was no other explanation other than him desiring her more than these girls but that was simply ludicrous. Why would he? They were both hotter and more popular. You would have had to be insane to prefer her over them. Even she wouldn't have chosen herself. So, it must have been the drugs.

She blames her own willingness on them too. It is easier that way. Now she can finally stop thinking and enjoy the feeling of Steve's touch absolved of any guilt.

"Robin." He gasps and she hasn't heard a sweeter sound. He sounds utterly ruined. It makes her feel powerful, in a twisted, perverse way. Steve Harrington was the king of Hawkings High and he wanted her in a way that she had never seem him want another girl.

She wanted to devour him. To bring him down to his knees, both figuratively and literally. She arches into him, grinding against his lap and is rewarded by a delicious, tortured moan.

She needs--

A loud laugh brings crushing back to reality. "Now, would you look at that."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the smutty continuation of chapter number 1. Somebody asked for it, so I thought why the hell not. Enjoy!

"Don't you think it's time for us to finally talk about it?" Steve asks her one night in the middle of August. They are sitting on the hood of his car, listening to music while smoking pot. It's something they did almost every week after Starcourt went up in flames. It was a sort of unspoken agreement of theirs; sit next to each other, hardly talking. It was easier that way. There was so much to be said and neither really knew how to start.

"Talk about what?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Robin."

She rolls her eyes, taking another drag before passing the joint to him. "We were high and thought we were going to die. That pretty much sums it up for me."

"Bullshit." It makes her turn to him at him. His face has fully healed now, but she can never look at him without seeing a faint echo of the bruises it used to be decorated with. She wants to touch him. She doesn't. "There was more. I felt it."

"Well, I didn't." Is it a lie? Honestly, Robin can't tell what's the truth anymore. Is there even such a thing as _truth._

"I don't believe you. I _felt_ the way you kissed me. Don't tell me _that_ was nothing."

"I like girls." She tells him because she has run out of excuses to justify why she is denying him. No. Not _excuses._ Explanations. Excuse is making it sound as if it's not real and it very much is. _Right?_ Fuck. The weed is getting to her head.

"What? What the hell does that mean?" He isn't angry or disgusted as she expected him to be. He sounds confused as if he doesn't know what the hell is going on. _Same here, buddy._

"It means that I wasn't obsessed with you because I had a crush on _you._ I had a crush on Tammy Tompson." It feels liberating to be able to tell the truth to someone. It had been her dark little secret for so many years and she was so used to the weight of it suffocating her that she almost didn't know how to deal with the fact that it was finally out.

" _Tammy Tompson_?" He asked, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yup."

"But she sounds like a freaking Muppet."

"No she doesn't!" Although if she was being honest, she kinda did. It didn't make her any less cute, though.

"Yeah, she does. That girl is almost tone-deaf."

Neither said anything for a while-- Steve going through all the new information he had accumulated and Robin anxiously waiting for the verdict. She _really_ didn't want to lose Steve as a friend.

"So, you like girls."

"I do."

"But that doesn't mean you don't like guys too, does it?"

"Steve--"

"You liked kissing me. I don't know what it means in the greater scheme of things, but please, stop denying it."

"I was high then." Is the only thing she can come up with. She is suddenly very tired of how vague and unclear everything is.

"That's okay; you are high now, too." And just like that he is kissing her again.

It lacks the excitement of their first kiss, but it is intensely intimate. It makes Robin feel seen, _understood._ It is sweet and gentle and over before it began. Steve tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I really, really like you, Robin."

She doesn't reply. She simply kisses him again, tasting the weed and smoke on his mouth.

"You have to say it too." He tells her and she supposes he is right.

"I think I like you too."

"You _think?_ What, you are not _sure_ or something?"

"How about you make me sure."

He smiles and rises up to the challenge, pushing her against the glass pane of the car and getting on top of her. His fingers play with the hem of her shirt and his eyes meet hers, asking for permission. She nods.

"Wow." Her pale skin is up for display now, smooth and unmarked, begging to be explored. When she shivers, he asks, "Are you cold." Robin shakes her head earning a wolfish smile from Steve.

The car is parked in the middle of a field far enough from civilization to ensure there will be no unwanted disruptions.

"Are you sure now?" He asks after having kissed every inch of deliciously exposed skin.

"Nope. I'm pretty sure I need--" Her breath catches when he sucks the patch of skin between her bellybutton and the hem of her jeans.

"What?" He asks, his voice ragged and sultry. "Tell me what do you need, Robin."

She was originally was going to say that she had to be convinced more, but the only word that came out of her lips this time was, "More."

"More of what, sweetheart?"

Robin can't stop the moan that escapes her lips. "Everything. _Anything._ "

He laughs and she is seriously tempted to kick him. But she doesn't because he undoes the button of her jeans and slides them down her legs at a deliberately slow rhythm.

Trying to regain some control, she leans forward and helps him take off his shirt. However, when her fingers go to the zipper of his trousers he stops her. "Not yet."

"Okay." _When did her voice get so small, so breathless?_

"Are you scared?"

"A little bit." She admits, because despite everything her heart is hammering inside her chest. She was so certain that she was a lesbian that she had never had to fully consider the possibility of having sex with someone with a penis before. It was surprisingly daunting.

"Don't be. I promise I'm going to take good care of you." He whispers in her ear making her whimper. "I'm going to make you feel _so_ good, Robin." He plants a kiss on her forehead before descending between her hips, leaving a trail of kisses down her body.

"Have you ever done this before?" He asks as he slides her panties off her. The cool summer breeze hits her, making her gasp.

"You know I haven't."

"I mean by yourself. Do you touch yourself late at night, thinking of _Tammy Tompson_?" He starts stroking her gently, his fingers running up and down without applying any pressure and it's making her crazy.

"Sometimes." She breaths, hips arching to meet his torturous fingers.

"Have you ever come?" Robin shakes her head. She had always been either too guilty or too scared somebody was going to catch her to be able to properly enjoy it. "Then this is going to be fun." He pushes a finger inside of her while his thumb simultaneously goes to her clit.

Robin whines so loudly she is certain the entire town of Hawkins heard her.

"Talk to me, baby." He starts thrusting it inside of her, curling it now and then, while his thumb rubs circles at her nub.

Robin's head feels _empty._ All she can think of is how good his finger feels inside of her. "It feels--" Her voice breaks when he hits _that_ spot. "-- good. _So_ good."

"Yeah? You feel good too. So warm and wet and soft. God, Robin. You make me so hard."

Robin feels on fire. There is a pressure building in her lower abdomen, going higher and higher making her think she will surely die from it if it doesn't stop anytime soon. "Please." She groans, not knowing what she is begging for. _More? For it to stop? Something else entirely?_

Steve seems to understand even if she doesn't and inserts a second finger in her. She wants to kiss him, to anchor herself in his shoulders because otherwise she feels as if she is going to float away, never to been seen again. After all, weirder shit has happened at Hawkins.

She doesn't get the chance because Steve's head disappears between her thighs and just when she is about to complain she feels his lips wrap around her clitoris and _suck._ Fireworks explode behind her eyes, her hips arching at an impossible angle that should hurt but for some reason doesn't. Every single muscle in her body is tense and then isn't. Robin feels more relaxed than she has in years. Relaxed perhaps is not enough to convey how she is feeling. The right word is _happy._

"Are you okay up there?"

"Yeah..." She sighs. "Just catching my breath."

"Take your time." Steve says sliding upwards and taking his place next to hers.

"That was _something._ "

It makes him laugh. He sounds happy, too. "You are so beautiful."

"Thanks. You are not half bad yourself."

He smiles softly at her, as if he is looking at something precious and starts playing with her hair. It is such an insignificant gesture compared to all the things his fingers did, but it makes her heart ache nevertheless. "You should probably get dressed. You don't want to get a cold, do you?"

She frowns, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "But won't we--"

Steve silences by kissing her. "Not today. Not on top of the hood of my car. We have all the time in the world. I want it to be perfect."

"But what about you?" Robin asks reluctantly, her eyes shifting to his visible erection.

"Don't worry about me. Now, come be my little spoon."

**Author's Note:**

> While watching Season 3 I couldn't help but ship them. Kudos and comments are highly appreciated. I am also thinking of writing an AU where there is no Mind-Flayer or Russian Spies, just two dorks working in an ice cream shop, falling in love. If you would like to read something like that please let me know. 
> 
> The title is from the song "Every Other Freckle" by Alt J.


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